


The Very Best

by keep_me_alone



Series: Batfamily Ficlets [14]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Batdad, Batdaddy, Bruce is a questionable parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, He's trying tho, Humor, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon References, Sorry for the formatting i wrote this on my phone, Video & Computer Games, You probably need at least some amount of pokemon knowledge to fully enjoy this lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_me_alone/pseuds/keep_me_alone
Summary: The kids play pokemon. Of course putting all six of Bruce Wayne's children in one room never goes like it should.





	The Very Best

Pokemon was a time honoured tradition in the Wayne household. Nearly all of the kids had grown up playing it. Cass of course was the notable exception, given the fact that her childhood had been spent with more murdering than usual. Jason also had started late. He was one of the most heavily invested though, as Pre Joker Incident, it was one of the things he and Dick had done together. Steph and Tim had both been playing Pokemon since the original GameBoy in black and white, and knew the most about it. Of all of them though, Damian was still new, and still halfheartedly insisting that it was a game for children.

"This game is pointless." Damian huffs. "It's ridiculous and juvenile."

"What's got you all riled up?" Dick asks lazily. He's draped across the couch,  his feet sticking up across the back of it and his head hanging off the cushion.

"He's just pissy because he's getting his ass kicked," Jason snickers. He's laying on his back on the coffee table, magazines and remotes shoved to the floor around him.

"I thought we were trying to get him to like this game," Steph frowns at Jason from her chair. It's the big leather one, generally reserved for Bruce, but he isn't here, and Steph doesn't care. Damian glares at her, and she isn't sure whether it's because he's annoyed she's defending him, or because she's appropriated the patriarch's throne. She is unconcerned.

Cass pokes her head out and scowls at all of them. She's half hidden behind the tv stand, and the one-blanket fort she's set up.

"Pokemon," she says sternly. They all get it. It is Wednesday, and they are supposed to be getting along and playing games, not arguing.

Jason grumbles something completely unintelligible, that's probably supposed to be an apology. Damian merely sniffs disdainfully. He goes back to his game though, only to yell in frustration a few minutes later.

"I hate this!"

"Chiiiiiiiiiiiill," Tim whines. He's lying on his stomach on the floor in front of the tv.

"My Pokemon are clearly superior to this moron's, and yet he still defeats me." Damian snaps.

"Alright," Tim grumbles, "let me see."

"I do not require your help, Drake."

"Fucking fine," Tim shoots back, "I'm just saying  that if you're using fighting on a flying gym, you're not going to get very far."

"Oooh Dami, you aren't." Steph says.

"Fighting types are obviously more powerful," Damian argues, "these weak birds have hollow bones and Machoke should snap them easily. It is not my fault that the mechanics of this game failed to integrate that. "

"Ok fair," Steph tries not to laugh. She doesn't want to hurt his feelings and Damian is taking this game so seriously. "But think of it this way; they're flying right? Machoke can't jump very high to get them, so he's not very effective. You wouldn't use fire pokemon at a water gym, would you? It's the same principle." Damian looks shifty, and Steph makes a sound that is half groan half laugh. "Oh my god Damian, you * _didn't_ *."

"I beat them eventually." He says sulkily. 

"How?" Tim is incredulous.

"Persistence," Damian replies primly. All of them look over at him with expressions of disbelief, besides Cass who is ignoring them all.

"You need more variation on your team," Dick tells him, cranking his neck at an angle that looks very uncomfortable.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Tim muttered, "but you should listen to Dick." Tim kicks his feet gently.

"What do you mean?" Dick squawks indignantly.

"We've all seen your team, Dick." Steph interjects.

"I don't know how you got passed the first gym. Wasn't your team entirely sandshrews and oddish at some point?" Tim says. Still upside-down, Dick scowls at him.

"They're * _cute_ *," he replies, "anyways don't get all 'nerd bro' on me. I've been playing Pokemon since before you were born." He swings up so he's laying properly on the couch, his legs on the cushions rather than in the air. "Besides, we all know I'm only in it for the contests." Tim snorts.

"Respect your elders, Timothy," says Jason, his stylus between his teeth. Tim rolls under the table that Jason is laying on and groans. "You're gonna regret that when I fart on you," Jason snickers. Tim immediately rolls out the other side.

From a safe distance, Damian informs them that they are pigs. Jason props himself halfway up to make finger guns at him as Dick laughs.

"None of you are taking this seriously," Tim sulks. He scrunches himself into a ball between Steph's chair and Dick's couch. He leans his face on the chair's leather. It smells like Bruce, which is nice.

"Jimothy Man-Duck," Steph says, very seriously, "Shut the fuck up." She grimaces, "Sorry Damian." Damian begins to protest that it's fine and that he's * _not_ * a child, but Steph talks over him. "I came out of the womb playing Pokemon. If I cared about stats and breeding I'd be exactly where you are. Babs does, and you're lucky she's not here, because she'd kick your ass." Tim scowls at the floor. "Let people enjoy things."

"Fucking roasted," Jason cackles.

"Language," Steph says, cocking her head and staring at him. Jason can't tell whether she's being serious or not.

"Sorry, brat," he apologizes. Damian yells and throws his 3DS at Jason. Jason is laying awkwardly, and can't react before the system hits his cheek. Jason shouts as he jumps up, knocking the table over. Tim scrambles out of the way and for a moment there is a chaotic storm of furious movement and noise as Jason and Damian try to shred each other and the others try to intervene.

Cass is eventually successful. She sweeps Jason's legs out from under him, which sends him into Steph and both of them crashing to the floor. Cass gives Damian a hard shove when he tries to get around her, sending him stumbling into Dick, who picks him up.

The door bursts open, slamming into the wall as Bruce rushes in. He stops dead as he surveys the room.

"What happened?" He demands.  Everyone begins talking at once, and the sound rushes over Bruce. He closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Stop." They all fall silent. Dick drops Damian who dusts himself off, then stands with his arms tightly crossed. Bruce looks over the lot of them, disapproval plain on his face. He steps close to Cass, whose nose is bleeding and dripping down her front. Her face is nearly expressionless, but she's upset and Bruce can see it.

"You five wait here." He snaps. When he turns to Cass, his voice isn't soft exactly, but the anger is absent. "Head forward. Pinch your nose." Cass does as she's told, but blood is still leaking into her hands.

"Favourite," someone mutters. Bruce thinks it might be Jason, but when he glares over his shoulder, it isn't apparent. Bruce guides Cass out of the room with a hand on her back. He doesn't ask her what happened, figures she wouldn't answer, but the silence between them is more natural than tense.  Bruce finds the nearest bathroom quickly, despite rarely using this wing. He has the Manor's schematics memorized. For emergencies. Bruce opens the door and gestures to the tub, and Cass sits on the side of it. There is a lot of blood. She's leaving handprints.

Bruce gets her a towel and holds it to her face  in place of her hands. She takes it from him.

"Pressure for ten minutes," Bruce tells her. "You ok?" Cass nods, winces slightly as she jars her nose. Bruce rubs her shoulder briskly and is shocked to see tears welling in her eyes. "Is it broken?" He asks. Bruce reaches for the cloth, but Cass bats his hand away.

"No. Fine." She is crying silently, her breath is even, but what Bruce can see of her face looks angry, hurt. He's seen her react less from a dislocated shoulder.

"Cass..." he trails off, not having the slightest idea what to say.

"Fine." She repeats, "Pokemon."  Bruce is completely lost. So he does what he's good at. He edges away and makes an excuse. 

"I'm going to talk to the rest of the family. Keep pressure on that. I'll be back." He's getting a little angry on her behalf, but he keeps himself in check.

When he gets back to the living room, things are calmer. The furniture has been righted, probably by Dick and/or Stephanie. The only real sign of a struggle is Damian's cracked 3DS, and Cass's blood on the carpet. Al's going to be mad about that, Bruce thinks, but it's not like bloody carpets are a new phenomenon here.

Steph is in his chair, and as his gaze sweeps over the room, he frowns slightly at her. Jason is laying on the couch, his arms crossed and glaring at the ceiling. Since he's taking up the whole thing, Dick is perched on the armrest like a bird. Damian is standing stiffly in the corner with a murderous expression, and Tim is pacing anxiously behind the couch.

"What happened?" Bruce asks. No one volunteers any information. "Tim." The already pale teenager blanches further.

"I wasn't involved." There is a large bruise on his arm that says otherwise, but if he doesn't crack immediately, than he's not going to. So Tim wasn't * _directly_ * involved. It's a fine distinction.

"Steph?" Bruce tries again.

"Dunno," she says, shrugging "I was napping." This is clearly a lie, as her hair is half pulled out of its ponytail and her shirt is ripped. Not to mention she'd been on the floor with Jason when he'd come in. Bruce sighs. He regrets training them all in interrogation. None of them are even making any effort to lie, they're just being difficult.

He really doesn't want to ask Jason or Damian, given that's likely to restart the screaming, and possibly incite further violence.

"Dick?" He asks. They make eye contact, and Bruce is begging him with his eyes. Dick has just opened his mouth to speak when Damian interrupts.

"Stephanie started it." Bruce raises one eyebrow and looks at her. Steph is flushed, her mouth hanging open.

"I did not!" She protests.

"You treat me like a child," Damian spits.

"Damian, you're like ten!" She replies.

"Calm down." Bruce says.

"No, no. If anyone started it, it was me." Jason interjects, "Steph didn't have shit to do with it. She told me to apologize for swearing and I did. Damian just got pissy and chucked his DS at me." Jason sits up, and Bruce can now clearly see the swelling on his cheekbone.

"Damian?" Bruce asks, scowling. He's not impressed but he at least wants to hear Damian's side of things.

"He treats me like an infant." Damian snarls, stalking forward, "He's just 'pissy' because I reminded him that if I wanted, I could kill him."

"Pretty sure you've tried that already," Jason says, "and yet..."

"Enough," Bruce cuts in before Damian can respond, because the younger boy looks like he's ready to fling himself into another fight. "Damian, I'm not replacing your game for two weeks."

"Fine." Damian's posture is so rigid he looks like he might shatter.

"Wait why can't I be banned from game night?" Jason whines.

"Because you wouldn't come back." Bruce says, "Be quiet." Jason sighs dramatically and flops back onto the couch. Bruce turns back to Damian, "And you're off patrol for two weeks as well. Violence is a tool. You are not to use it on your siblings, and you are old enough to know better." Damian's shoulders are up around his ears like a dog's hackles.

"Yes, father." Bruce looks at him for a long moment, wanting to be sure that Damian isn't going to sneak out as soon as his back is turned. He finds no such reassurance, but hopes that maybe he'll show a little maturity. It is a slim hope at best, and Bruce knows it.

Bruce has just began an even more pointless conversation with Jason about not riling up his brothers when Cass returns and everything just kind of peters out. She stands near Steph, facing the rest of them with her hands on her hips and a fierce expression. Her eyes are still a little red.

"Pokemon," she says, when she has their attention,"Not fighting." There is blood smeared on the lower half of her face. They catch her meaning, and it is a little strange to think that Cass, who is often silent or hidden in corners, is the most upset that their game has been interrupted.

"I want you boys to apologize to Cass and each other." Bruce says, giving both Damian and Jason a stern, measured look.

"Oh no." Jason says, "don't look at me. I didn't do shit."

"Please try and be an adult about this," Bruce replies, exasperated.

"I was dead." Jason says as Bruce cringes and Damian rolls his eyes, "I think it messed with my brain. Honest! Like prefrontal cortex something something emotional regulation uh stuff!" Bruce wants to be annoyed, but Jason might actually have a point.

"Are you sure that's the explanation you want to go with?" Bruce asks, instead of calling him on it. "Because children don't get to fight crime." The looks he gets range from Cass nodding along like he's making sense, to Damian's scorn, Tim and Jason's open incredulity and Dick and Steph's barely supressesed snickers. "Uh, alone." Bruce tacks on awkwardly. "Children don't get guns." Jason sighs theatrically. He's apparently bored of playing, because they all know Bruce has limited power over him. In this case, Bruce is the UN: a moral, not physical force.

"Fine. Sorry Cass. Sorry Damian."

"Damian," Bruce prompts.

"My apologies, Todd. Cain." He says the words like they physically hurt him. Bruce sighs. It's not great, but a month ago, he probably wouldn't even have gotten that much.

"Good." He says, "enough pokemon though."

"But--" Dick says plaintively.

"If you want to hang out you can watch a movie. No more fighting." Bruce says firmly.

"And you think we won't fight over what movie to watch?" Tim says raising an eyebrow.

"You'd better not." Bruce gives them all a long look before he removes himself. He wants their next fight to not be his problem, and he'd say it wasn't, if asked. But he knows he'll still come to sort things out. It's a frustrating job, but an important one.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways I have a whole bunch of head canons that didn't make it into this. Not sure if I should try and shove them into another fic or honestly if I should just give them to u?  
>  Lemme know!


End file.
